Recovery

If you yourself don’t rest, your body forces you to do so. I finally went to the regional hospital to get an ear check-up. All cleaned up and now on new stronger antibiotics and a strict regime of rest and dust-free surroundings (meaning I have locked myself in our computer room watching the HBO series Weeds which though is entertaining the premise is hardly believable). Bébé called not to ask how my ears were doing but when I was coming back. After how this weekend went I’m not sure I want to go back! Sunday I was at the hospital before 7 am to make porridge for the kids, weigh them, check vital signs, and give them morning medicines. With the mothers, I like to take my time; this morning it ended up I didn’t get outta there until past time to go to church. Tried to find Competent to do the Radio show at 10am, but he was no where to be found. I went home and found my tenda complete. Now I can sleep outside, on ground level (safe from sand storms and rebels) without worrying about rain. I gave Zubbu what I bought in market for dinner and told them I see them later. Rested for all of 30 minutes, showered, and went back to the hospital for the 13h feeding. I graduated both of the severe cases into the transition phase, so if all goes well, they could be released Thursday in time to catch transport out to villages after market. The annoying part was that one of the moderates was the Kwash’s cousin and the sisters wanted to leave together that evening. Just when Ibrahim was getting better! Marasmus is obvious, but Kwash, once the swelling goes down, it is difficult to convince parents their child still needs to treatment. There exists a serious imbalance in their metabolisms and electrolytes, protein processing etc. (Bébé informed me once I left for Gao they did leave. Everything is paid for and they even had people in town to care for them…it makes me sad). Sunday afternoon Bébé finally showed up. The weekends pose a problem—any day we could have sick kids, and the staff is unwilling to follow the protocol—meaning milk every 3 hours, porridge twice a day, medicines and their given times, and patience enough to speak with the mothers about the state her child is in. I told Bébé it is up to her to do the rest of the work for the day or explain it to the Sage Femme on guard. I get to Zubbu’s (mind you this is 4pmish now) and sat for all of 5 minutes when I woman came into the courtyard to show me her sick child. It’s nice people come to me seeking help, but it is sad they have no faith in the health care system. I walked the mother to the hospital because Bébé said since it is Sunday she refuses to check the child in “Can’t it wait until tomorrow??” Some health CARE…the woman had to prepare her things to stay with the child at the hospital so it turned out after I registered the kid and gave her her first dose of antibiotics, they went home. Bébé took the opportunity of my presence to leap at the chance of an evac from Outtagouna. In other words, money. I explain to the nurse the form to fill out for the evening--tracking the treatment and how the kids take to the supplements--and go back home. The nurse doesn't think the way things are now in terms of staffing the program will advance. We need a separate guard schedule for Nutrition. Really, I don't want another death due to negligence on our part!

At least I went home to a fantastic meal made by Zubbu. Ouijila-like sauce but with potatoes. Tué, the old man, joked he hadn't had potatoes since independence. Ha. 

So, in Gao, aside from earning sympathy points for having survived two visits to the regional hospital and remaining nosocomial illness free, I am resting and catching up on recent care package DVDs amassed at the PC house. Woo.